


Immersion

by WayWardWatson



Category: RWBY, Red vs. Blue, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: AU, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Gen, Humor, Juggey - Freeform, M/M, Mavin, Mind Control, Minecraft, Multiple Dimensions, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Probs lead to romantic, Temporary Amnesia, Will probably add more people as fic goes on, and bros, glitch - Freeform, will have eventual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 05:47:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1014860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WayWardWatson/pseuds/WayWardWatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mission went wrong.</p><p>It went wrong before they could truly fuck it up. Now they were two men down with a hijacked double loose and their team divided. All under the span of ten minutes.</p><p>Fuck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

According to the public, Achievement Hunter was merely a source of online entertainment as six (occasionally eight) friends played games together. And, perhaps, on another plane they were exactly just like that. However, as Ryan prepared to enter into the portal, Achievement Hunter had grown much bigger than just that. 

As he stepped forward, the waves wrapped around him and he gripped the notebook tighter, mentally rehearsing and preparing for his conversation with Geoff; one conversation that he was not looking forward to. The metal ceiling above him dissipated cleanly into an open blue sky, white blocked clouds slowly rolling by. He stepped onto the grass, aware that the portal had closed behind him. It hadn’t been that long since he had entered the Minecraft server, yet he felt a relief at returning back to his second home.

He reached for his leather bag strapped loosely around his waist, thankful for the server’s automatic modification on the clothing and carry-on items, pulling out map #4 and activating it. The blank tan paper suddenly filled with three large land green masses surrounded by blue water and patches of white dotted sporadically across, slowly black symbols appeared and marked where previous activities and mines lay. A few miles north of the lime green star (Achievement City) was a collection of colored dots. Using his ‘college skills’, Ryan noted the coordinates of the dots before commanding his standard AH Lens to show his own current coordinates. According to his calculations, the trip would take a couple of miles, if he skipped a snack break and hurried, he should be able to make it to their location by dawn.

‘Wouldn’t be too hard,’ Ryan thought, as he shut down and put away his map before typing the dots’ coordinates into his command box, ‘but where was the fun in that?’

Enter.

...

Ryan silently appeared on a hill overlooking the most recent Let’s Play that Gavin and Geoff had constructed.

Ray was just a few feet ahead of him recording the scene. Ryan grinned to himself, he liked it when no one noticed when he popped in, and it always made the reactions more hilarious. Slowly, he snuck behind Ray until he was nearly breathing down his neck. Carefully leaning forward till his mouth hovered next to Ray’s ear, he paused, swallowed a giggle, and spoke.

“What’s going on?”

Ray let out a manly scream (which cracked and, sure, was high), fumbling with the camera before back peddling away from Ryan. “Holy shit, Ryan, give me a warning..” His widen eyes narrowed at Ryan’s smug face.

Not trying to hide his grin, Ryan simply smirked. “Sorry”

“No you aren’t, asshole.” Ray returned, but there was no bite as he chuckled softly.

Ryan shrugged. “Nah, you’re right, I’m not,” before gesturing behind Ray. “But seriously, what’s this Let’s Play?”

“Actually, it’s a things to do.” Ray closed his mouth as Geoff answered, hovering a little above their heads. Slowly he floated down, rolling his shoulders, before continuing. “We just finished building it actually; wanna help try it out?”

Ryan glanced behind Geoff, back at the Things To Do, noting Gavin’s shit-eating grin before looking back at Geoff. He recognized that look; it was Geoff’s about to blow someone to bedrock – and not the good kind of blow. Ray continued to film in the background, waiting. He’d probably regret this, and if he were sensible and sane, he would have said no.

Instead, Ryan shrugged his shoulders and grinned, “sure why not?” before following Geoff down the hill towards the thing - Ray filming close behind.

What could possibly go wrong?

Ryan couldn’t wait to see what would.

 ...

Jack was just finishing up with editing an old versus video when he got the email.

He leaned back in his chair, rolling his stiff neck, taking a moment to enjoy the silence in the AH base (technically it was a small office, but the lads insisted that ‘base’ sounded so much cooler) before clicking open his account to check the email.

Jack read Burnie’s message twice before groaning. He pushed himself away from his desk and out of his chair, quickly jotting and sending an email requesting an intern to finish the editing, before walking out of the office (base). As he walked to the door that led to Rooster Teeth’s basement, he tapped up a quick text and sent it just as he passed through the basement’s door. With little hope of connection, he pocketed the phone and went downstairs. 

Caiti paused typing when she heard her cell ping. She frowned and tapped the keys to unlock her phone.

            From: Jack <3

                        Hey, on new mission; sorry. Reschedule?

                        Love you.

Sighing, she typed back, even though she knew he wouldn’t see the message till later. Still, she smiled at her busybody. He’s lucky she loves him too. 

...

Michael was exhausted.

He was also frustrated and the panging headache certainly did not help. Usually, he was happy, relieved really, when he was called away after a Rage Quit and someone else had to edit his videos.

Nope, not today.

The spot next to Michael dipped as someone else sat on the white couch. They sat in comfortable silence, listening to the hums of the sub-machines as the tech crew powered up the Immersion.

He had been hoping to relax today, lower the cortisol; take a dip in the pool, drink a couple of bevs, sleep. Instead, he’s ordered to return back to the AH server for some major mission that Burnie refuses to provide Intel about.

The dick.

A dull roar crackles to life and Michael finally opens his eyes to glare at the portal. From the corner of his eye, he sees Jack stand up and walk towards it; Michael follows suit. He understands; it’s their job to explore and shit, but, looking at Jack and suppressing a yawn, a break would really be appreciated.

He glanced around the team of technicians, but couldn’t spot Ryan. Instead, a young woman with short, dirty blonde hair ushered him forward behind Jack. Then, with a snap in the air, the portal manifested in a light blue and white swirl, transparent enough so that Jack could still see the signal that ordered him to step into it.

Then he was gone.

Michael stepped forward where Jack had once stood, waiting for the same signal.

Maybe, it was the exhaustion and the leftover frustration, hell, maybe the Immersion spewed out gamma radiation and he was the next Bruce Banner, but he couldn’t completely ignore the way his gut twisted at the feeling that something was wrong.

The technician behind the portal gave the signal and Michael stepped through. His gut quelled as the realm of Minecraft appeared before him, a calming breeze rustling the nearby trees, the portal silently shutting off behind him, but even then the feeling still lingered. 

 

 


	2. Debriefing

Gavin squawked as Geoff lunged unsuccessfully towards him. He ducked, flailing his arms, squeaking and giggling as he sprinted back towards the outline of Achievement City. He paused, far enough away, to stare back at the others, and openly cackled at Geoff and Ryan’s singed attire. Even though Geoff was the host, he made no effort to catch up with the Brit, simply glaring with lidded eyes. Next to him, however, Ryan pulled out his enchanted bow and fired a flaming arrow towards Gavin, chuckling when the young man toppled over himself to avoid getting hit. Dawn was fast approaching and the crew was tired and hungry. Ray lagged in the back as he checked over the film, muttering and tutting at the damage caused by the accident. Putting the bow away, Ryan went back to double-checking the notebook in his leather bag, relieved that it was not damaged.

Geoff muttered under his breath. He needed alcohol, he needed a break, and Gavin needed to remain in Minecraft so he could fully enjoy that break. Yet, he side-glanced towards Ryan, he had a feeling that he wasn’t going to get that break any time soon.

…

Along the way to Achievement City, Jack and Michael had started to collect some more resources.

As Jack stopped to cut down a few more trees (again), which, if you asked Michael, they already had more than enough wood, Michael decided to climb up a small nearby mound. Looking over the top, Michael gasped at the sight that lay spread before him. Out there, on the icy plain, was a herd of moo cows. He glanced back at Jack, who hadn’t noticed Michael missing yet, then back at the cows.

Once more back at Jack.

Cows.

Jack.

Cows.

He grinned.

They could always use more beef. 

By the time Jack managed to reign in Mogar and was satisfied with the amount of wood collected, it was getting dark.

Luckily, Achievement City wasn’t too far away. Michael held Mogar at his side, the diamond sword once again clean and glinting in the dying light. Jack held his diamond axe comfortably on his shoulder, pausing shortly to take out and light up a torch. They could hear the monsters coming out just as the two got closer to the giant wool animals and creeper. Jack extinguished the torch and put it in his knapsack once they were on the smooth stone bridge, under the Glowstone lamps. Just ahead, he could see the pillars of his wooden home, relieved to see it not on fire (for once). Michael rushed ahead of him, eager to store the meat in their community’s storage.

Jack checked to see if the houses’ inside lights were on. All but Geoff’s were off; they’re probably expecting them. Jack internally groaned. He shifted his knapsack and the logs clunked together. Well, he might as well put away this wood first. And, yanno, since wood is so fragile and all, he might as well take his time carefully putting up the logs. So Jack happily walked to his home, glad to postpone the boring meeting as long as he physically could.

…

Gavin rubbed his shoulder and sulked.

After the crew caught up in Achievement City, Geoff cornered him and punched the dick out of him. So, maybe placing TNT under the arena and setting it to explode while the guys were inside was a dick move, but, in his defense, it was funny. He didn’t realize that Geoff hadn’t coded it; otherwise he would never have done it. Seriously, that had been a pain in the arse to build and, since it was un-coded and destroyed, it will be an even bigger pain in the arse to rebuild again.

Personally, it was all Geoff’s fault.

They were sitting inside Geoff’s monolith, a level down in his common area. It was a comfortable size, with a small furnace in the corner, a few bookshelves along the wall, and a few chairs scattered around a central table. Gavin was currently sulking on the sofa, legs spread to take both spaces. Across from Gavin sat Ryan, who was quickly reviewing inventory. Geoff had opt to stand, no longer angry, but silent as he tracked Jack and Michael. Ray was in the new room, connected by a hall that Geoff had recently added, attempting to salvage enough good film for, at least, a Let’s Build to send to Burnie.

Gavin groaned aloud. This was boring. Absolutely bo—ring. He groaned again. Flinging his arm dramatically in his face.

No one reacted.

Gavin peaked between his fingers; Ryan had finished taking stock and had pulled out a notebook – Geoff was out of vision, but he could imagine him as stock still as ever.

As stealthy and quiet as a baby elephant, Gavin carefully climbed over (and fell) onto the other side of the couch. Crouched, he bit his lip in concentration as he prepared his attack. Ryan glanced up at Gavin preparing himself and shook his head.

3

2-

“I swear to God, Gavin, don’t you even think about it.”

1!

“Yaagh” Gavin hurled himself onto Geoff’s shoulders as the older man grunted, attempting to balance Gavin’s weight. Instead, Gavin tipped forward, clutching onto Geoff’s shoulders as he started to fall face first in front of him. Geoff wrapped his arms around Gavin’s torso, but that only caused Gavin to completely fall off and collapse onto the ground. In a span of five seconds, the Brit lay groaning and giggling as Geoff merely shook his head. “I warned you.” Nudging the lad lightly with the tip of his shoe. Absolute idiot, he thought warmly.

His AH Lens blinked, notifying him of Michael and Jack’s return to Achievement City. He clicked the notification off and stepped over the giggling mess called Gavin.

Time to get Ray. 

…

By the time Jack entered the common area, Michael was already seated munching on some freshly cooked steak with Gavin’s legs as a table - the two giggling and loudly bickering as usual. Center on the actual table was a platter of steaming steaks, wooden plates and silverware. Jack sat at the single chair closest to Ryan, before leaning over and helping himself to some dinner.

“Hey! Food, mine.” Ray bounded in from the hall; grabbing a plate of meat and curling around a single chair, mouth already stuffed full. 

Following after came Geoff, who helped himself to two helpings before leaning against the wall. “Great, we’re all here! Now, I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here today.” A resounding no started, which Geoff ignored. “I am as well. Ryan, care to inform us?” His voice cracked at the last part, attempting to speak over the din of the lads. Michael shouted at Ray and Gavin to shut up as Ryan pointedly waited.

Finally, Ryan spoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed. I'll be updating chapters on Tues/Sats. Have a nice day! :)


	3. New Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Crew prepares to blast off the server and start their mission, but Geoff has suspicions and Gavin has a sore foot.

Achievement Hunter was the sister branch of RvB, product of the Rooster Teeth Corporation – a ten year old entertainment company, according to the public eye. Unbeknownst, Rooster Teeth had developed into something bigger – something far more revolutionary than the original founders ever dreamed it to become. However, this was hardly the time for a history lesson and currently irrelevant for this particular briefing, so Ryan skipped over Joel’s romantics of the history of the company and the juicy secrets that everyone already knew about.

There had been recent flares of uncommon activity in a recently discovered line of servers. According to Burnie, these activities may be the work of one of their competitors – or possibly a glitch (Ryan notes the question mark written in the margin). Since Burnie isn’t sure whether these are competitors or not, and since it involved multiple server jumping, it’s up to the AH crew to explore these anomalies. Tacked underneath Burnie concludes; “you fuckers better not screw this up.”

As Ryan concludes, the AH crew groans.

Gavin starts complaining about being in Minecraft too long, while Michael just murmurs for him to shut up, Ray agrees with Gavin – especially since he has been putting off his new Pokémon game while in Minecraft (‘They need me’). Jack shares a long look with Geoff and Ryan who both sigh in return.

The complaining was justifiable. Everyone on crew had been immersed and busy for these past few months: whether on individual projects or group. The time that they have spent back in their original plane had been dwindling in comparison to the time spent on these servers. However, even as the lads bickered and complained, there was logic in the request – there was also something else.

“He does understand how long it would take setting up and dismantling multiple transports – this’ll take a whole month and plus, and that’ll only cover perhaps two of these servers.” Gavin groaned out. “It’s not like we can just open a portal willy nilly and all.”

There was a pause.

Gavin looked towards Ryan, he wasn’t the only one. 

“Ryan,” Geoff started, Ryan growing anxious under his stare. “He doesn’t really expect you to…” Ryan swallowed. He knew how Geoff felt about their…Glitches. It wasn’t a conversation he had been looking forward to, especially as his silence seemed to confirm Geoff’s question.

He seethed. “That bastard! He knows that’s unstable. We don’t know what might happen if we use – look, we can do two, but I refuse to put anyone’s life at risk.”

“Geoff.” Ryan started slowly, “Look, there have been more reports on this and two servers aren’t going to be enough –“

“It’s dangerous.”

“Yes, but we need to do this.” A dark look crossed Geoff’s face, but Ryan continued. “These servers aren’t the only ones with these anomalies. There have been reports found in the RWBY server and RvB server as well – they’ve talked with our allies, but have found nothing.” He paused, the crew silent.

Michael looked around before speaking. “So, what’s the big deal? Are these anomalies doing something – it might not even be our business, could be some natural process or some shit.”

“Well,” Ryan flipped open his notebook again, turning to the most recent page. “It used to be nothing.” He breathed in, pausing; he had to word this right.

“There have been some attacks.”

… 

‘Attacks’ was a mild word. The correct word would have been massacres. There had been multiple massacres where agents have found whole cities destroyed and the people inside dead. It appeared as a natural pillage, something the creations of the server would produce – heck, massacres in their plane wasn’t uncommon either. However, it was the codes left over that implied an unnatural force.

Ryan had spoken with Lindsay, the only AH Crew to also be a RWBY member. She had recounted that there had been a severe difference between the usual monster’s codes and these unnatural codes. She frowned, mulling over on how to describe it. It was like, she had started, as if, she paused before she snapped her fingers.

It was like Michael’s glitch.

The codes appeared to be gaining power from consuming the other codes. Except, she mused, whereas Michael’s power is fueled through emotional extremes, this doesn’t appear to stem on that variable. In her opinion, whatever it is it relies on destruction. Satisfied with her analysis, he was prepared to leave, but her hand clasped his arm. He turned around, her cheery demeanor gone; there was one more thing.

These things; they’re different, new, and they’re evolving.

… 

Geoff still wasn’t pleased by the next day.

He set to work packing his bag – which was less of a bag and more of a phone. The phone-bag contained all the codes that he could activate. Technically, he shouldn’t be using it. But, as Geoff reasoned, it was hardly hypocritical when compared to the severity differences. He tucked the phone into an actual bag, zipping it into a side pocket.

Besides, nobody would know.

…

Gavin stood beside Ryan, watching as the older gent planned out their route, scowling. Michael, Ray, and Jack went to retrieve some extra material needed to construct the three transporters. They already had enough to build twelve; it would be just enough to get them across the servers and back.

The entire trip would take, however, around two months to complete. 

Unless, of course, Geoff relents and allows Ryan to use his glitch – Gavin snorted, unlikely.

Gavin looked back to Geoff’s monolith, watching as Geoff shut and locked the door behind him. The man lugged the bag over one shoulder and walked over to Ryan and Gavin.

“What’s the inventory?” Gavin shrugged his bag off and took out the accounts for the journey. He handed it to Geoff, who quickly scanned the sheet, before handing it back to Gavin. Geoff turned to Ryan, frowned, then sighed.   

“Look, I just don’t want to run the risk, I’ve seen these kind of things go wrong and your health is more important.” Geoff rubbed his face, breathing out; sleepless eyes making contact with stressed ones.

“We’re wasting time.” Ryan started, but relented. “Look, I’m anxious about it too, I’d rather avoid using it, but whatever this is – it could be getting stronger.”

He paused.

“Burnie isn’t sending us to fight, he’s sending us for information – that’s what we do Geoff. And if there is a way where we can get the information faster, then maybe we can curb this thing before it gets any bigger.” Geoff looks away from Ryan, staring at the forms of their returning friends.

“I thought Burnie wasn’t sure what it was,” Geoff stares back at Ryan, unflinching. “You talk like you already know what it is.”

_What aren’t you telling us?_

“Geoff, stop it.” Gavin intervened. “You’re being an over paranoid prick, don’t do that.” 

“But-“ Gavin cut him off. “No. None of that – Ryan’s good, when he’s not being a serial killer, he’s got his reasons.” Gavin turned to Ryan, who was about to protest about being a serial killer (because, seriously, Edgar wanted to be in the hole), but just nodded along.

“Gavin, I know he’s good and he has reasons,” Geoff deadpanned, but Gavin waved him off again and Geoff considered killing the man. He could get away with it. He’d swear Ryan to secrecy, there was enough land, but before he could commit homicide – the rest of the crew noisily returned.

For the rest of the evening, the crew set to work building the transporters, preparing on their final step before the two-month journey. As Geoff’s hand ‘slipped’ on the tool for the third time, dropping it on Gavin’s foot (not even hiding his laugh - oh sweet revenge), he glanced back at Ryan and wondered, not for the last time, what force could drive Ryan to want to use his glitch. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try and provide summaries, pretty crap with them, so bare with me.
> 
> In other news: the little crack story of Burnie and Gavin's wedding has become my most popular story - pretty happy, pretty shocked, never thought my shortest and least planned work would do so well. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, next update will be Saturday. :) Have a nice week.


	4. RvB Vacation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joel takes a little joy ride and Caboose crashes the Puma, again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay - Parent's Weekend; gotta spend time with family.
> 
> Here is the next installment - Enjoy!

Sometimes, when the finances became a bigger headache (it’s called a Migraine Joel, Burnie muttered) and his computer decided that it rather crash for the day (I can fix that – No, Burnie, it’s broken), Joel liked to go on little trips to calm down. While Disneyland was not among the offered options (yet), and he wasn’t actually supposed to leave work yet, he opt for the second best trip – the RvB server. 

Technically, as a founder, he wasn’t supposed to enter the RvB universe anymore, especially since he still was connected with his double, but things just got so stressful and boring and, woah, wow, look he’s driving the warthog. He whoops as he completes another donut around the cavern, purposely avoiding where Tucker and Washington were probably training.

So, ya, maybe he wasn’t supposed to be here, taking over his double’s body and all, but where was the fun in that?

…

Washington groaned as he heard the unmistakable sound of the puma’s engine, turning away from Tucker’s training (Keep training I can still see you – aw man), he scoped to see, once again, Caboose driving inside it. This guy…he really needed to invest in a leash.

“Caboose in the puma again?” Tucker grunted, pausing slightly on his 103rd squat.

“It’s like he doesn’t even try to follow the rules.” Wash muttered, then realized, this is Caboose; of course he doesn’t follow the rules. Actually, Wash isn’t even sure Caboose can read – no wait, he’s positive he can’t.

Maybe he could train him…?

Suddenly, the puma sprung from a hill and flipped over – out of sight – followed by a large crash and explosion. A few feet away, a flaming tire landed, rolling a few short inches before falling over.

Nope. Internally, Wash threw his hands up, shaking his head. It just wasn't worth it. 

Wash turned back to Tucker, ordering him to start laps, as Caboose shouted that he was okay. Oh, and the warthog crashed. Wasn’t his fault. Anyone have water?

He wondered if the reds ever had to deal with these problems.

…

Simmons was sure he could murder Grif. Sarge was already behind it, Donut could be sworn to secrecy, and there was a lot of land. However, Simmons was a man of standards – he’d wait for Sarge’s order before he brutally murdered Grif. Still, he grimaced, scraping off, what he reassured himself was food, he wondered if he could just go ahead and commit homicide. At least this mess would go away.

Donut had forced himself to go outside, focusing on improving the fung shui of the base, instead of the lost cause that was Grif’s room. Much like Simmons, he too was planning Grif’s murder, he wondered if those orange balls Grif had would transport his dead body. The thought made him hum under his breath.

Sarge happily confined himself to his corner of the room, working on his secret project. Another machine – soon those nefarious blues won’t be the only ones with a deadly machine weapon. No, those conniving blues will get what’s coming to them, very soon, and maybe Grif will die in the crossfire. Yes, it was perfect. He, too, hummed under his breath as he fixed up the machine.

Lopez glared at the base, his circuits baking under the sun, at the stupid humans misusing their stupid bodies, he found himself resenting them with each passing second. Lopez 2.0, while still as the grave beside him, buzzed with virtual happiness at his companionship with his previous predecessor. Still, he remained alert in case one of the stupid humans needed his help. 

Grif, on the other hand, was not having fun.

You see, Grif had a system. It’s a simple, yet effective method of living. He gets up, eats, has a smoke to wake up, and then deals with Sarges morning orders (particularly ignoring them). He snacks, sleeps on his feet, banters and ignores Simmons, eats, naps under the shade, has another smoke, dinner, ignores Simmons and goes to sleep satisfied.

Except, now, he’s sure he’s getting sick somehow.

Grif leans against the shade, helmet off, eyes closed as he enjoys the cool rock against his burning head. He doesn’t open his eyes, his head hurts and the world is way too bright, even under the screened helmet.

He focuses on the sound of the nearby streams, of Tucker’s cursing and the sounds of Cabooses’ idiocy, because when he doesn’t, he could almost hear the voice of someone else inside his head.

…

When Joel returned from the server and snuck back into his office, he thought he escaped scotch free. With the recent events, Burnies’ got his people monitoring the servers with even more scrutiny. He sank into his chair just as someone knocked on his door.

“Who’s there?” He moved the mouse around and watched his other computer wake up. His door opened and he glanced up. Miles stared at Joel, closing the door, and there was a beat of silence.

“So…” Joel lifted his eyebrow, but Miles just crossed his arms.

“Joel, we got a minor dis-fluency occur near the previous doubles in RvB,” Miles paused pointedly. 

“Like the other times?” Another beat. “No, more minor, like an agent reading.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, would you happen to know about that?” Joel looked up, coughed, and ruffled his hair.

“Wh-why would you think I know?” Joel’s voice cracked slightly and Miles looked unimpressed.

“Seriously, Joel –“

“If you know I went then why are you asking me?”

Miles throws his hands up, not really annoyed, but still frustrated.

“Joel, I just have to make sure, these instances are increasing, and I don’t want to miss any signs.” Joel sighed. “Once we figure out what’s going on, you can sneak out and do whatever you do, but right now…”

Joel nods, he understands. It’s frustrating.

He opened his mouth – “We already monitor them, Joel, they’ll be fine.” Miles cut in.

He closed his mouth.

“Alright, fine. Sorry to cause any trouble.” Joel logged into his account, financial and economic documents popping up. Miles nodded, muttered a sorry, before leaving his office.

Joel sunk into his chair.

It wasn’t often that he went to the RvB server, sometimes he went for fun, sometimes for security, but…he couldn’t really justify…he sunk further in his chair, feeling more guilty. He wondered how much he stressed Miles and everyone else monitoring those four times.

…

Miles sank back in his chair with a sigh, across Kerry looked up from his monitor.

“Confronted Joel?” Miles nodded his head, bringing up the different monitor lines.

“He take it well?”

“Yeah, very well actually, I think he felt guilty.” Kerry rolled over, knocking shoulders with Miles.

“Don’t feel bad, Joel’s awesome, and I could understand a few jumps,” Kerry continued knocking shoulders until Miles smiled and pushed Kerry.

“Yeah, yeah.” He chuckled. “I don’t know why Joel thought he could get away with twelve jumps, maybe four, but seriously.”

He turned back to his monitor; sometimes Joel was just too crazy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So I just wanted to clarify something. With the RvB and RWBY characters, I want to respect that their current story-lines are still in-progress, thus while I take away some background info already established, I may not link it with current events released from recent episodes. Again, I want to respect the show, so I'll make sure to edit anything that conflicts with cannon, but otherwise their moments will be on a different line segment - inbetween actual est. events.
> 
> Also: Hope you are enjoying the story! I'm working on a separate project/story as well, so I may get to post that very soon.


	5. Twisted Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little insight into Michael's Glitch and a little instinct that goes ignored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you Enjoy!

So far, they were making good progress.

If you could call it good.

The first server didn’t really show any physical unnatural modifications. Ryan used his AH lens to note the codes and store the information. Before they switched to the second server, he sent the information to Burnie.

Now, they’re in the second server with only the same codes and no physical evidence for support. They were also camped in the desert, probably in the middle of summer, with a tiny shack to work in - needless to say, AH Crew found themselves growing more frustrated.

Michael kicked an empty can, leaning against the dusty old shed, while the gents worked on the transporters. Ray sat on top of the shed; fiddling with the revolver, mind somewhere else. Michael wasn’t sure where Gavin was. He kicked another can, watching as it went bumped up into the air, there was a loud bang and the can went soaring. Michael glanced up at Ray, who had shot without bothering to look.

“Ray…” He started, but another can was thrown into the air, only to quickly be shot down without Ray looking up. Michael glanced over to where the can had been thrown, a growl in his chest. “Gavin,” He started, rounding the corner, but only finding dust. They should know better.

Another can goes flying; another shot is fired.

“Guys, stop it.”

Dust flickers and swirls in itself, it isn’t the wind. Ray smirks to himself, before concentrating again. Michael clenches his fist.

“Seriously, that’s enough.”

“Who died and made you king?” Gavin suddenly murmured into Michael’s ear, arms materializing around his shoulders, his weight increasing against his back as Gavin lazily encoded himself back onto the server. Michael snatched his arms and flipped him over, Gavin landing with a hard ‘umphf’ on the hard desert dirt. Ray laughed from above, but stopped at the murderous look Michael shot him.

“That’s dangerous.” Michael started, stepping past Gavin. “You fuckers are going to screw yourselves over because you have shit for brains.” 

“But Mi-cool,” Gavin pouted.

Michael turned to Gavin, glaring. He wasn’t in the mood.

“Michael, calm it, we’re not glitching out or anything.” Ray hopped down from his spot, hiding in the small shade the shed roof provided. “What’s a little testing?”

“Enough.” Michael sat against the shed wall. Listening to the muffled voices. He closed his eyes.

…

When Michael first learned about his Glitch, it was during his first Immersed Rage Quit.

It was a simple indie game that Ray had found: challenging and aesthetically pleasing, cheap too. By that point and time, the AH Crew had been involved in multiple server projects, by then switching into a new server had become a familiar sensation – a pulsing sensation. It was like, as he entered into a new plane, he could feel the tension of the realm, a low vibration that comforted him, warned him, an indescribable sensation that he assumed everyone, not just AH, went through. 

He set himself into his rage, allowing the emotion to take over him and quickly engulf him as he continued on the level. He was so used to the pulsing, he hardly realized that it had grown stronger, that the platform he stood on wasn’t just shaking, but buzzing in and out. That, as he yelled and the world tinted red, the plane around him was shivering in and out of existence and this new power, surging through his veins, were draining the forces around him. He felt powerful, invincible, irrational, and the world around him collapsed.

Literally.

He had crashed the system; left the server.

When he woke up in Minecraft, surrounded by worried and anxious faces, he could barely taste the power left. 

It had been intoxicating.

He wanted more.

He had destroyed a server. 

He had drained it of its life.

It took Michael a few weeks before he returned back to the Minecraft server. He was scared of loosing control, he felt conflicted because he wanted to taste that power again. All it took, he learned, was just extreme emotion. When he did return, he had learned how to better control his emotions. He was still the same Michael, but he was someone who quietly tested the boundaries first. He understood Geoff, understood his fear, because the Glitch wasn’t some gift or superpower, it was a temptation.

It was a promise towards sweet destruction.

…

There was something wrong with the transporters.

Geoff cursed under his breath as he continued to run tests with Jack, but Ryan knew it had nothing to do with the machinery.

He couldn’t really explain it, but there was something else. Something under, linked behind the lines of the server. Of course, when he looked he couldn’t really see anything different. He was tempted to ask Ray to check, his Glitch allowing him to look at the nature of the servers more closely than anyone else. But Geoff wouldn’t allow him out of the room - he’d be suspicious. Not to mention, Michael would be out there.

But he could feel it, a sense of corruption.

…

Michael’s gut continued to twist, the lads falling into silence. Gavin had moved over to Michael’s right while Ray leaned to his left. It was hot as dicks.

He couldn’t help but feel that something was wrong.

The best way he could describe it was that the vibrations were off. They were lower than they should be and pitched in random moments. It had greatly shifted from earlier where it had merely been a dull thump.

Gavin leaned his head lightly on Michael’s shoulder, bored.

Another spike.

Suddenly, the hum of the transporters came alive and Ray let out a ‘thank christ’ before shuffling up. Michael sat a little longer, his gut twisting, until Geoff swung open the door with a grin. Gavin raised his head and awkwardly stood up, Michael slowly following.

He wondered if anyone else could feel the pulse. 

“Time to go boys.” Geoff waved them in. 

It felt wrong. 

… 

When he was younger, there had been a distinct difference between video games and reality.

As his mother would say: there was virtual reality and then the real world. Virtually, morality didn’t matter, consequences didn’t matter; if you died, you restarted. If you screwed up, you restarted. If it became too frustrating, you could just slam the controller down, scream and storm away. You might pick up the controller later and try again, but no one is forcing you to, and you restarted. You see, virtual reality, it isn’t your whole life, it’s just a minor distraction, and you control it – nothing could possibly go wrong. Then, she would continue on, ramble about laundry, and little Michael would tune her out. But now, looking back, he couldn't help but compare.

What were the servers?

Sometimes, they slipped into servers like Minecraft; well-established games that apparently could become 'actual' worlds. Sometimes, they slipped into servers that were books or movies, or they were nothing but another scenario - a slight alter in history that mildly answers one of the many 'what ifs' of historians.

But, at the end of it, they always were a server.

It was easier to think of them as a virtual base, for Michael there was just one reality and that was his one. When he thinks about these servers, as much as he liked to think of them as real, he knew otherwise. His Glitch, all their Glitches, and the connection – it was just proof of the control, right?

Nothing could affect them, they were unnatural to the server, and they were beyond it. The AH Crew were the players, they manipulated the environment.

There are always consequences, the Glitch was one, but it was one limited to the servers. 

Morality still didn’t matter. No matter what server they ‘died’ in, they would wake up in their ‘save’ spot. In many ways, they were untouchable, immortal, vitual gods that trancended through various points, regardless of the server's time. Besides, when they weren’t on long missions like this one and when they weren't in distant servers like these, death would only guarentee a quick trip back to waking up in their base server: Minecraft.

In the end, it was all still a game.

It was an extremely detailed, immersed, game that wasn’t shared public knowledge, but still a game nonetheless.

So, even if they messed up, they could always restart.

Right?


	6. Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are always consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy.

Gavin and Geoff had entered the same transporter. They were not the first, nor last, they did not go together, but went in the same fashion as everyone else.

So what went wrong?

Ryan clutched Geoff’s head as the man continued to scream, Jack holding Geoff down as he kicked, punched, and flailed. He could see the panic in Ray’s wide eyes as he occasionally looked back at Geoff and Gavin, before looking back out. The streets had been emptied out, the town was eerily quiet. Michael clutched at Gavin’s wrist, heart hammering as Gavin’s pulse gradually slowed more and more.

The mission went wrong.

It went wrong before they could truly fuck it up.

And they had only been in this server for four minutes. 

Geoff convulsed as Ryan bit out a curse, Jack trying to steady Geoff, as Ryan continued to sort through Geoff’s inner codes. Gavin’s pulse kept flickering down.

They didn’t have much more time.

Suddenly, there was silence as Geoff finally passed out. Ryan rubbed his face, then quickly shifted his trembling hands towards Gavin, concentrating.

After a few tense minutes, Michael let out a sigh of relief when he could feel the pulse strengthen and return; yet he gnawed his lip. He shared a knowing look with Ryan. The server held no pulse.

He could feel no vibration, no life, underneath him. It was empty, cold, and yet there was a society around them. It wasn’t the first time that Michael had entered into an abandoned city, but even then there had been a different thrum, the server was still alive. Somehow, this one was dead.

Ryan finally lifted his hands and sat back, sharing a look with Jack, Ray, and Michael. They waited for him to speak.

He didn’t know what to do.

…

The headaches had been gone for a few days.

Simmons and Donut forced Grif to ‘clean’ his mess (thank god for those balls – er transporter things) and he decided to congratulate himself with a nice nap in the shade. The best part, he grinned, was that no one would be coming to bother him. The rest of his team left to talk with the Blues – Wash had called in for a group meeting. Sarge, convinced it was an ambush, decided to meet the Blues head on in the jeep. Of course, what would happen if they tried to take the base Sarge, someone should stay behind and guard it?

He volunteered himself, of course.

Sarge, prepared to argue, considered the idea.

On one hand, Grif was lazy and would do absolutely nothing to protect the base.

On the other hand, Grif was lazy and would likely die if the base were ambushed.

Sarge agreed.

Now, stretched out in full body suit armor, he could feel the sweet pulse of slumber take him.

Except the pulse started to hurt before it amplified and a crashing pain swept over him. Grif shot up, clutching his helmet, the world tilting as the pain only got worse. He could see it beating in and out and getting louder and louder, banging around his helmet. It took all of his wavering strength before he could fling the helmet off his head.

The world was too bright, even with his eyes screwed shut, the harsh red and white mixed into the noise – someone was screaming. Two people. He could hear someone thrashing alongside him; he could feel phantom hands clutching at his head. Someone was putting up a wall, but as it raised higher, the pain and the voices, it kept growing louder and stronger.

He ripped at those walls, they had to stop. They had to stop. Stop stop stop stop stop stop stopstopstopstopstopstop. He could hardly feel his body; he felt like his mind was being ripped away with each brick placed. And the voices. 

The other man was growing quieter, but someone was still screaming. It sounded horrible, strained, and underneath the screams whispered gleeful voices.

They were getting louder, laughing, yanking, pulling Grif further into this white torture.

There was so much noise.

He just wanted it to stop.

_As you wish._

Then, there was sweet silence.


	7. Desperate Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the AH Crew offline, Burnie resorts to desperate measures to get the team back.

Burnie cupped his head in his hands, barely listening to Gus’ frantic panicking. He stared at the most recent report, his stomach twisting as he reread the words ‘lost connection’, the graph next to the declaration blank as all six of the AH Crew’s vitals were gone.  Everything had been going smoothly, he had just received their most recent report on the second server, and then the connection dropped. It couldn’t be a crash – their backups would have produced more warning, as well as more sparks – but the crew couldn’t be dead.

The present situation didn’t help either.

A sudden crash made Burnie look back up at Gus; the man had kicked over a chair in frustration and was now collapsed against another chair opposite of Burnie. He took in a deep breath to try to calm down, but Gus continued to shake slightly. 

Neither one wanted to keep pulling their agents into this, but as Burnie reached out and dialed Monty, they knew there really was no real matter of choice.   

They were under attack.

…

 

Lindsay Tuggey was Ruby.

When she entered into the realm of RWBY, she entered, not as Lindsay, but as an extension of one potential of herself.

It was, as they called it, a full immersion. A dedication to one persona, to a specialization and exploration, because, here, she didn’t take over her double, she became an extension of her.

It, of course, came with risks.

Lindsey sat up on the couch, Barbara slumped next to her, letting her head clear up again. Sometimes, if she wasn’t careful, she started to forget the rest of Lindsay – which was pretty hard, because have you seen her, she’s pretty awesome.

She tapped her fingers, waiting.

She and Barbara had been called out from the realm recently, she doesn’t know exactly why, but a heavy weight in her gut told her it wasn’t good. She knew Michael had recently been given another mission; it had been a few weeks since he had left, and she wondered if something happened to their group. She knew Michael would be fine, but some of the others weren’t that strong (Gavin).

There was another reason why she knew something was wrong.

Professor Ozpin, Agent McCormick, had gone missing. To be more specific, he had been pulled out of the RWBY server for another mission in the RvB server – as the rumor went. He had been among the new RvB agents without conscious connections with their doubles, unlike the other agents; he didn’t permanently remain in the server. In fact, he was technically retired from that server.

But, if the rumors were true and he was called back out of retirement, then something major must have happened.

Lindsay looked up when Miles entered, a bag slugged over his slouched shoulder with a look of utter frustration on his face. It had been a while since Lindsay had last seen Miles, longer since as Jaune Arc. Ever since the anomalies started to become more dangerous, Miles, along with several other agents, had been pulled out of their servers to monitor for the unusual codes. He collapsed into the chair, his face taunt with stress, dark bags under his eyes, and practically melted with a light sigh. Then he sat up and the brief comfort was gone.

He turned and zipped open the bag, pulling out a folder. Lindsay, used to Miles dramatics, internally rolled her eyes, but said nothing. Instead, she leaned forward like Barbara, resting her chin on her clasped hands. Beside her, she could see Barbara stroking her invisible beard. Miles paused before dropping the folder dramatically onto the coffee table, papers slipping out and fluttering onto the carpeted floor. Miles brows furrowed, wait, that wasn’t supposed to happen. 

“Miles,” Barbara groaned as she and Lindsay bent over to pick up the scattered documents.

“3/10: Needs better delivery.”

Barbara grinned up at Lindsay. “I guess you could say that was a pa-poor performance.” Lindsay and Miles frowned at Barbara.

“Booo.”

“Dammit Barbara.”

Barbara, undaunted and proud, high-fived herself while ignoring Lindsay’s and Miles’ simultaneous eye-rolls. 

However, the light atmosphere didn’t last long once all the papers were spread out on the table. Lindsay drew in a sharp breath, picking up one particular document, Barbara leaning against her: silent and shocked. Barbara spoke first.

“These are still…” She licked her lips and looked up at Miles. “I thought that…what happened?”

Lindsey traced the photo of the document, noting the small, round metallic sphere that looked nothing more than a $10 kid’s toy. Yet, if this was what it said it was, it was far more expensive, more powerful, and definitely more dangerous than to be in the hands of a child.

She remembered Monty’s prototype’s design; she weakly smiled when she noted that Monty didn’t change the title, Portal Ball, after all. However, the Portal Ball, last she had heard, was theoretical. The PB didn’t work when they used it on the transporters or with the Immersion; there was no way it would ever work. Unless, Ryan had been secretly using his Glitch. She glanced at the other documents and wondered if he used his Glitch in those developments as well.

“-they may stay trapped in a dead server.”

“What?” Lindsay snapped her gaze up at Miles, any thought of experimental tech pushed away. Miles rubbed his neck and grimaced.

“We think that the AH Crew is trapped in a dead server; a half hour ago we lost connection with the team and due to recent events, we need them back at the base as soon as possible.”

“Why doesn’t Ryan just open a portal and bring them back?” Barbara asked, but Miles just shook his head. “Geoff and Michael are there – I doubt either would go through.” Miles scratched his arm, looking back down at the papers.

“Besides,” he said cautiously, “we don’t know their status right now. They may not be _able_ to return on their own.” The implication hung and Lindsay’s gut twisted again, she looked back down at the PBs.

“So, what, we’re rescuing them?” She asked. Barbara nodded along, pointing to the photo. “Are we using those?”

“Yes.”

Barbara frowned. “But they’re experimental! Do they even work?”

“Well, the cones came back fine – and some of the birds’ wings were tinged, but good - they’ve run calculations and it should work.” However, it was still all theoretical, and the underlying danger still remained. If he had it his way, well, he wasn’t sure what he would do, but it wouldn’t be using these devices. Lindsay and Barbara talked amongst each other, before Lindsay turned towards Miles.

“You have the coordinates right?” He nodded.

“Is it just us?” He nodded again. “Just you two and a navigator.”

“And there will be enough PBs to return.” With a second’s hesitation, he nodded.

Lindsay’s eyes narrowed, but said nothing. She looked at Barbara.

“When do we start?” 


	8. Leaving Home Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team 'Rescue' sets off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Er - well this one is rather short, didn't notice it until just now. Thank you for comments, I appreciate the questions and I hope you enjoy. Also: Have a wonderful weekend and Harry Potter month.

Caleb basked in the sun, enjoying the rays’ warmth that painted his face. He stretched out against the green and black wool, enjoying the rare comfort that the Minecraft server offered. It had been a long time since he had been back, he couldn’t help but selfishly wish it were under better circumstances though. He waited patiently in the heat, listening for any fluctuations. Any second Lindsay and Barbara would enter the server and while Lindsay knew the feel of the server, Barbara didn’t. However, that was the extent of Lindsay’s experience with multiple servers (outside the RWBY server).

Now, while Caleb didn’t constantly switch through various servers, like the rest of the crew did, he did have experience. He also, somehow, was more proficient with directions – which aggravated the lads to no end. They still called him a screen-looker, but, hey, he can’t deny his amazing talents of navigation. They had every right to be jealous. In his mind, he popped his shirt forward, smirking down at the little versions of the lads. Yes, bow down you directionally challenged tits, bow down to your new navigational master.

 

“Caleb?”

Shit. He opened his eyes to see the two girls smirking above him, the sun just about setting; he smiled sheepishly.

“Morning.” Lindsay held out her hand, lifting Caleb to his feet. “Enjoy your nap?” She asked. Barbara chuckled. “He must have, Mr. Navigational Master.” 

“Did, did I say that aloud?” He muttered, the girls nodded and he groaned. So much for his dignity and respect.

Lindsay glanced back at the setting sun, “we should probably get going.” Barbara nodded in agreement, but Caleb frowned. Making a transporter was tedious business, he glanced at the horizon, and if they started now they would run the risk of encountering mobs. Barbara, who guessed Caleb’s thoughts, snapped her fingers, catching his attention.

Without a word, Barbara uncovered a small, metallic sphere. It was a PB; he stared back at Barbara. He had seen Ryan working on those devices, but they still were experimental, no one was supposed to know about them yet.

“Oh.” He said.

“Convenient, right?” Barbara handed the PB to Lindsay, “you’ve got a good arm.”

“So does she just throw it and we go in?” Caleb looked between the two, Lindsay looked at Barbara and Barbara sighed.

“I thought you were paying attention,” she muttered at Lindsay before speaking louder. “Kinda. Someone throws it,” she pointed towards Lindsay, “and we all go in at the same time.”

“How many people can go in at once?” Caleb asked.

Barbara started to count her fingers, stopped, and then playfully smirked. “As many as there are, but the bigger the group the less likely it’ll work. Miles recommended three as the magic number.”

The sun dipped lower, stars began to peak out in the sky, the temperature dropped and a chilled breeze pushed against Caleb’s white lab coat. “We should probably get going then.” He muttered. Barbara nodded. “Yeah,” Lindsay murmured.

 

The sun sets.

Just as the distant clink of bone started, Lindsay threw the PB. There was a loud snap as the middle of the field twisted into a central point. The ground dipped and the air curved until it formed a light green vortex. They could feel the energy crackling around them. 

Without a chance to doubt, they clasped hands, Barbara to her left and Caleb at her right and ran through the portal, it closed shortly after.

Achievement City once more fell to silence.


	9. Silent Apprehension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We return back to the AH Crew...

Michael leaned out from the window, searching the dusty grey road but, like every single time previously, there was nothing. Absently he wiped the dust off his cheek with the back of his hand before turning his back to the window of a dim world. The room he was in had fallen to dusty disarray; parts of the roof had fallen in and litter cluttered the floor. Permanent grey dusted every crevice and it was utterly disgusting. Michael hefted Geoff’s bag, the soup cans jostled and clanked against his side, as he made his way back out to the dusty, abandoned street and towards their hastily established shelter. Tomorrow, he and Jack will have to move bases again, gradually edging closer to a distant, but hopefully filled, grocery store.

As Michael walked through the streets, the sun’s rays hitting against his back but absent of its usual warmth, he couldn’t help but wonder how far Ray and Ryan have gotten.

 

It had been four days since Ryan and Ray had left the server. 

He didn’t expect to hear word or even see them for, at least, another week. With Ryan using his Glitch to its up-most extent, opening crude portals, it shouldn’t take them but a couple of days to reach their home server – and that’s if Ryan doesn’t take breaks as he will, no doubt, be drained since portal opening was taxing. But even if they did make it to the main server, would they return? He didn’t doubt that the company would already be aware of the AH Crew’s sudden disappearance and perhaps already become desperate enough to send a rescue team.

The gravel crunched under Michael’s feet.

The question then would be whom they decided to send? Multiple server jumping wasn’t exactly for everyone and ever since they discovered the glitches, the head honchos have clamped down on other employees becoming multiple-server hoppers. In fact, outside of the AH Crew, there was only a limited few that would qualify for a rescue team – which was where Michael started to worry.

Michael approached a tall fence, barbwire decorating the top, and ducked his head as he went through its large rip. The cans continued to clank as he picked up his pace and approached the home. He spotted Jack through the front room’s window and waved, Jack gave a strained smile back and waved before returning back to removing the rotten planks nailed across the broken window frame.  Michael walked up and onto the patio, ducking under some of the overhanging planks and through the empty doorway. Jack stood to his immediate left and set down the last plank, patting off some of the grey dust. Michael nodded, continued to the kitchen in the back, Jack in tow.

For the past week, hell – ever since they were stuck in this forsaken server, the team had found themselves living in a world of deafening silence. It held no room for noise, no tolerance to even the smallest sound. It perpetrated a sense of wrongness, even downright disrespect, every time one of them opened their mouth to give a curt answer. Instead, the crew worked in an uncomfortable, tense silence.

Jack watched Michael as he set down Geoff’s bag on the counter, taking out four soup cans, setting each down on the stone slab while sending up puffs of dust. There wasn’t much he had found in this search, however Jack’s frown lessoned when Michael took out three bottled waters. Michael then went and grabbed Gavin’s bag from the Island, placing Geoff’s bag to the side of the Island, then placed the resources inside with the rest of their supplies. Once the bag was zipped up, he placed it back on the Island next to Jack’s and his own – all desperately deflated, a constant reminder of their dwindling resources.

Michael licked his dry lips; both Jack and Michael were familiar with this new routine. Jack walked back into the decrepit hall as Michael followed, passing by the only first-floored bathroom and into the only downstairs bedroom. In one king sized bad lay Geoff and Gavin, asleep. Geoff was pale, his eyebrows furrowed. Sometimes, he was conscious, but when he was, he was usually delirious and still too weak to move. Michael frowned. They still weren’t sure as to what attacked them, yet the group had silently agreed it had something to do with all the unnatural errors.

Geoff shifted, a watery murmur fumbling from his chapped lips. Jack went to Geoff’s side, but a resigned frustration marred Jack’s face, as he knew there was nothing he could do to alleviate Geoff’s nightmares.

If Ryan were still here, maybe he would have further fortified Geoff’s mental firewall. It had been a risk when Ryan left, but they all recognized it as a necessary action. So, even if he did remain, would that even have helped Geoff in the long run? Sure, it may have bought Geoff a few more minutes of consciousness, but he still would have remained bed-ridden and in pain. It didn’t help that they didn’t know what was even plaguing Geoff’s mind or where it was coming from.

Instead, Jack sat down and took Geoff’s hand as Geoff unconsciously started to squeeze the clasped palm. Michael plunked next to Gavin, brushing away the dulling bangs from the Brit’s face. Gavin hadn’t wakened up since the attack; instead he seemed to fall further apart each day. His face had become more swallow, his Gaviny color (which Michael thought best described Gavin’s aura – or whatever bullshit it was termed) dulled further into this server’s universal grey. But, the worse was his pulse; while his heart rate remained constant, his pulse seemed to become fainter every day.

More frustrating was that at least with Geoff they had a general assumption as to what was happening, but with Gavin. Well, Ryan had no idea – sure he had been able to stabilize him, but it was more or less like putting Gavin into a…

 

_Ryan had hesitated around the heavy word and it seemed that this silent server became tenser. Ray had stopped acting as lookout, bluntly staring at Ryan’s back now. Jack continued to stare at Geoff and Gavin, not able to meet Ryan’s eyes and the confirmation within them. Michael, however, stared straight into his eyes as a numbness started to creep over and into his core._

_“Into what?” Michael’s voice was stable and calm, but inside he was loudly and violently cracking. Ryan licked his lips and mournfully looked away, glancing back down at Gavin._

_“I’m sorry,” Ryan started, but Ray cut him off, his voice tight and barely shaking. “What did you do to Gavin?” Ryan didn’t look up. He took in a shaky breath._

_“I had to put him into a coma.”_

Michael stopped petting Gavin’s hair and reached down to grasp his hand instead. But Gavin didn’t squeeze his hand back, he remained motionless, still, unresponsive and Michael’s heart dropped once more. He sighed; soon he and Jack will have to try to feed Gavin and Geoff soon. Then, the sun will completely set and finally plunge their fractured team into the cruel, absolute darkness. 


	10. Diplomatic Discussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meeting occurs in the RvB-world between an old ally of RoosterTeeth. Things are discussed, words are exchanged, and is it just me or do you smell smoke?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, longer chapter! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy - more notes at end. 
> 
> Happy Holidays!

According to Matt, he was a diplomat. Shannon: the guy who originally started out as a Halo agent and now overseas Beacon Academy of (as the ladies call it) Badassery and Ninjas.

A diplomat.

It’s one thing to oversee immature co-workers, it’s another when they’re teenagers, but this is just some strange country metaphor waiting to happen because when he agreed to work in RoosterTeeth dealing with diplomatic conferences with an estranged, but powerful multi-dimensional ‘ally’ was not on the job list. In short: he wasn’t being paid enough for this.

Shannon breathed in and relaxed, mentally reviewing what Matt and Burnie had told him. First; he needed to ask about the incidents – so get as much information as possible. Second; be vague on Rooster Teeth’s progress, mention the branches –if asked- but be general. Don’t agree to anything, hint at no obligations, and let them do all the talking until relations are better solidified.

All generally vague advise when he thinks about it.

He stops and checks his standard tablet, rereading the address of their building. He glanced at the street name, it was the same street, but all the buildings here were short, stout, and nearly desolate looking. It couldn’t be the right place for a major corporation. He looked around, walking a bit, before stopping in front of a rather shoddy building. The windows were musty; the roof looked greasy, and there hung the smell of mildew. He checked the address again and frowned. It couldn’t be the right place, yet the address matched.  

He looked back up and nearly yelled in fright when an older woman, dressed in bland business attire, stood ramrod straight staring at him. He looked behind him unsure if someone else was meeting her, but only the empty street greeted him. He turned back and waited, hesitated, then waved. 

Despite the appearance of the environment, the woman appeared clean and only seemed to reek of underlying power. She had grey eyes that matched the black hair marred by grey patches. Underneath her left eye were two white dots, a birthmark of her species. She did not wave back, but gestured him forwards. When they were a foot or two apart did she finally crack a smile, raising out a hand to roughly shake briefly with his.

“I’m Shaila Walker, I prefer if you call me Ms. Walker. You must be Rooster Teeth’s diplomat.” Her voice was brusque and low, her soft, thin smile contrasting against her apparently quick nature.

“Shannon McCormick, you can call me Agent McCormick or Shannon, whatever you prefer.” He smiled back.

“Well, if you would follow me Agent McCormick, we have much to discuss.” She turned on her heel, gesturing him to follow, as she opened the door and disappeared inside the shoddy building.

The inside was, frankly, worse than the outside.

On one hand, it had the same amount of cracks, moss, and rubble as the outside hand. On the other hand, the strong smell of wet wood and mold was nearly crippling. It was just one room; at the end was an elevator with rusty doors.

“We aren’t getting in that,” Shannon pointed. “Are we?” He eyed the elevator and then Ms. Walker, wondering if this was indeed the wrong place. If it was, he was going to get shanked soon.

“Yes, how else are we going to get to my office?”

“But you don’t even have a second floor.” Shannon pointed out.

“Exactly, now please come in.” She gently pushed Shannon in as the doors squeaked open. He nearly jumped when the elevator dipped a little as she stepped inside. Another loud screech erupted as the metals doors clanged shut, sealing the two in the box. Ms. Walker pulled out a small ID badge from her inner jacket pocket and waved it in front of a black box. Suddenly the box lurched and the two descended down.

Shannon gripped the rails with white knuckles and internally screamed while Ms. Walker idly browsed her phone. After what felt like an eternity for Shannon (it was actually a minute), the elevator beeped and the doors opened with no problem into a large, clean, and impressively polished marbled corridor.

“This is our stop.” She turned to Shannon. “After you.”

All too happy to escape the death trap, Shannon slipped out of the elevator and waited for Ms. Walker to join him before walking beside her down the hallway.

 

“You’re a new face, usually I deal with one of the founders, but it has been awhile since our companies last talked.” She spoke mildly, breaking the silence as they continued their path down the corridor.

“Yeah, time’s flown by.” There was a pause, before Shannon titled his head towards the other and grinned. “I bet it was Burnie or Matt right?”

Ms. Walker remained impassive, professional, but held a playful tone. “Neither.”

“Really? It’s hard to believe that they would send Joel to handle these things,” Shannon mused; he also couldn’t imagine how comfortable Gus would be either as a diplomat.

“Agent McCormick, do you remember how your machines first functioned?”

Shannon shrugged, “It’s been awhile,” Try nearly ten years, he thought. “But everyone knows that they used to use doubles.”

“And have they ever explained how that worked?”

He didn’t really see the point in all this but answered anyways. “Doubles are just similar people that you can mentally jump into and physically control while the original person isn’t aware.”  He paused, hesitant to finish there or continue when the other didn’t respond. After another beat, he continued. “It’s like some mind/body swap,” he twirled his hand for emphasis, “with no harm to either party.” 

“And that’s what they told you?” 

“More or less.”

Ms. Walker stopped and let out a chuckle, barely shaking her head as she took out her identification card and swiped it over the scanner to open her door. As the two stepped inside her office – a rather large and impressive (hardly intimidating at all) office, Shannon noted – did Ms. Walker speak again, low and with barely concealed condescension.

“I suppose you can say it was a, uh, mind swap method, but I would hardly say that it was safe.” She twisted around to face Shannon at the end of the room, slowly slinking down into her leather chair while gesturing at the chair sat across her.

“Please,” She smiled. “Have a seat.”

Shannon nodded and moved towards the chair, frowning. “Obviously it had a few bugs, it’s why we’ve moved on – progressed.” He made a broad gesture. “Much like your own organization.”

Ms. Walker rolled her eyes. “That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?” He frowned.

She leaned forward, grey eyes glinting with curiosity, smile nearly predatory.  “Before we can get to that, I need to see how informed you are in the first place.”

“I’m not here to play games and I don’t recommend you try any tricks with me.” Shannon stated, meeting her stare as he straightened in the uncomfortable chair, crossing his arms. “So let’s cut the bullshit already and get down to business.”

“Fine.” She leaned back, crossed her legs and folded her hands, face once more impassive. “I would like to know how many branches RoosterTeeth has, what they are doing, and if there have been any…anomalies in any branch.”

“Actually, I came here to talk to you about some anomalies not only found in our branches, but in outside servers as well.”

“You mean dimensions – found in other dimensions.” 

“I meant servers,” Shannon corrected, meeting her stare. “We suspect there might be a virus.”

  

The two sat in silence. Then she sighed, before rustling around her bag to finally fish out her tablet. Her nails tapped against the metal surface, the pale light just highlighting the edges of the sharp contours of her face before being swallowed by the fluorescents of the room. Shannon unwrapped his arms, laying his hands on top his knees, tapping his fingers against his shin as looked around the office.

“His name was Dexter, by the way.”

Shannon’s gaze snapped back to the woman. Before he could ask ‘who’, she spoke again without tearing her eyes away from the tablet. 

“The old diplomat. But that wasn’t his real name.” She uncrossed her legs and shifted, finally looking up. “As for Burnie and Matt; Burnie couldn’t use his double because it was a risk to his mental health, as for Matt’s reasons, I’m not sure. But any message they had for me it was sent through Dexter.”

She set the tablet on the desk between them, turning so he could see the documents.

“We’ve had several cases of anomalies, but only recently have they become severe.” She pointed to one tab and then pressed it to expand; a square formed and inside was a picture of a smiling young woman.  “She’s one of the agents we lost,” Shannon scrolled down, greeted by countless more boxes. “Among many.”

“Taken by these viruses, right?” Shannon looked up. 

She sighed.

“It would have been easier that way.”

He felt a shiver. “What do you mean?”

“We think, though there isn’t sufficient evidence to verify this, but we believe that our previous agents-“ here she gestured to the tablet “-were corrupted somehow and turned, as you say, into viruses.”

“That doesn’t make sense, why would you even think that?” He snapped.

She inhaled and looked away, then exhaled and met him again with her stony eyes.

“You haven’t told me about RoosterTeeth’s branches yet.”

 

“Well, you haven’t thoroughly explained your reasoning about humans gone virus – I think that would be a more interesting story now wouldn’t you?”

“I asked you first.”

“Are we seriously doing this, really?”

“Yes.”

Wow, okay then.

He rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He held up his hand, “there are three main branches involved with Immersion.” He popped up his middle finger. “The first, as you know, is RvB which, as you know, handles diplomatic relations with other server (‘dimensional’ she mutters and he ignores) jumpers. And, as you know, is the main provider for advanced parts and power supply for the machines. Next,” he pops up his ring finger. “Is Achievement Hunter – that’s where Dexter’s double has been assigned to –“

“Why didn’t they send him?” She cut in. 

“He’s on a mission.” He deadpanned.

“Now, as I was saying: Achievement Hunter handles multiple server jumping as it’s designed for exploration. Of course, most of these servers are within familiar boundaries of our scanner –“ She tilts her head as her eyebrows furrow slightly.

“What?” He asked.

She lightly tilts her head up, absently rolling her thumb over her fingertips. “I’m rather interested to know if they have encountered anything unusual.”

Shannon shrugged his shoulders, “I’m sure they’ve seen some weird things – no server is the same.”

She waved her hand.

“Not like that.” She leaned forward and grabbed the tablet, gazing back at the photos. “It would just be interesting if they had – because ours had and we had cost dearly for it.”

“I think it’s your turn to explain.”

She looked up, mouth thinly pressed together. A beat of smothering silence overcame the room and for a second Shannon could see the pain flash behind her tired, grey eyes. It was for a second, before she softly spoke.

“These agents were part of a division involved in multi-dimensional travel; they were scientists and researchers ready to explore and learn from these other universes – much like your achievement hunters.” She paused. “You understand.”

Shannon nodded and coughed, trying to hide his giggle. “Of course.” (No, not really, he wouldn’t call those guys professional researchers, maybe in alcohol, he wondered if she knew she was giving them too much credit here)

“Well, we also kept track of our group and for awhile things were fine. Then, we started to notice a strange…anomaly occurring amongst our researchers.”

“Did they start acting strange? Paranoia?” Shannon supplied (despite the tense atmosphere, he could imagine a strange pancake-esq space sickness spreading amongst her researchers in a true ‘60s Star Trek fashion).

“No.” Ms. Walker rolled her eyes. “They were already paranoid enough.”

“Instead, they gained strange abilities,” she tapped the tablet and handed it to Shannon. There listed besides some of the names of MIA agents were abnormal abilities – sending a familiar chill crawling up his spine.

 

“One could almost call them Glitches.”

A young woman with red hair stared back at him, not even 27, MIA: able to tame and control any minor beast – sometimes including children.

“At first they weren’t much of a concern – just something new to test.”

An older man with sideburns; legally blind; MIA: able to predict future events and provide information - ‘almost like a tutorial,’ Shannon thought. 

“But as they continued to use that power…”

While this agent looked like a woman, the file read male. Almond eyes glared back at his as the olive-skinned teen leaned against the white wall – a spark of rebellion written in his posture. Also MIA: able to take energy from environment through sound and emotion. _Michael…_

“…well, it took over them. We lost them.” Shannon tore his eyes away from the screen, aware that she could possibly read the internal panic and concern churning inside him.

“How could you lose them?” He asked carefully, his voice not wavering. “You can’t just lose a person.”

She let out a weak, bitter chuckle. “It’s actually really easy.”

 

“We had called them to return back to home base, that’s where their…abilities don’t work. We had become concerned when several agents had begun to abuse their powers. What we didn’t account for was our trackers to go down-“she raised her hand. “-but not for the whole organization, just for that division. By the time we managed to get some bearing on the team, we had lost nearly all of the agents – those that were left seem to be delusional.”

“What, did they see white rabbits?” Shannon quipped.

“I wish.” She muttered. “They talked about freedom and mumbled about destruction – and something about reshaping the threads and remaking some quilt – it all seemed babble to us. Before we could dispatch a rescue team, the remaining agents went offline and we were unable to connect with any of them again.”

“That’s still not enough evidence to say that they’re the ones responsible for all these incidents.” Shannon pointed out, “Perhaps it’s just some sickness they picked up – something minor.”

“Yet the destruction that both your organization and our organization have discovered matches to their abilities.”

“Their abilities are vague and general, anything can cause that.” Shannon frowned. “It wouldn’t make sense for them to start randomly attacking various cities across multiple servers (“Dimensions.” “Whatever.”) – besides these attacks sometimes occur simultaneously and according to your spreadsheet, none of your agents had the ability to open portals into other servers. It would be impossible.”

“Why? Does one of your hunters do that?”

Shannon snapped his mouth shut. “No,” he said. “They don’t.”

Ms. Walker stood up with a huff, heading to the bar at the left side.

She poured a glass, “Would you like one?” she politely asked.

“No thanks,” Shannon replied. “Not a good mix for server jumping.”

She absently nodded, dipped her head back, and gulped down a large portion of the liquid – wincing slightly. She filled her cup some more before speaking again.

“There’s no point in lying Agent McCormick.” She took a sip. “Especially to one’s allies – that’s not how diplomacy works.”

“There are several types of diplomacy – like your splendid isolation, it has been a few years now since you called us ally.” Shannon countered. 

Ms. Walker scoffed. “We were the ones who had to reach out to you – you made communication difficult and only got involved when the anomalies affected your organization.”

Shannon shook his head. “As Matt said: It was mutual – there were many times we reached out to you and you never responded, unless the goals were similar.”

“The concern is.”

“Of course the concern is, who wants some destructive group causing trouble across the servers.”

“I was talking about your hunters.”

Shannon stood up.

“You shouldn’t be.”

“You should.” She took another sip, her eyes detailing him, waiting for his next reaction, next move – calculating. His frown deepened and she smirked.

She leaned against the bar and smiled; a stretched smile that made him feel even more uncomfortable at every passing second trapped inside her office.

“Agent,” she started, slow and loud. “I don’t mean to offend. Why don’t we just move past the topic – tell me about the third branch.” She took another sip as her eyes took on a hard glint. “I’m curious; you’ve tackled diplomacy, research – what could you possibly be using the third branch for?”

Shannon rolled his shoulders, his eyes never leaving hers. “I think we’re done here for today.”

“I don’t think we are yet.” She responded, pushing herself away from the bar. “You haven’t told me the third one yet. Is it a military?” He saw a quick flash of teeth as she hid the snarl underneath another stretched smile.

“No.” He stepped forward, maneuvering past the woman. “Thank you for your time and information, we’ll keep you up-to-date and if you need to contact us, well, you know which building to go to.” He grabbed the door handles.

“Agent McCormick, this conversation is not over and –“ The words were swallowed up when a loud blaring suddenly started, lights dimmed and brightened as Ms. Walker rushed to her desk where a hologram automatically opened – a red alert flickering on the screen.

“What’s going on?!” Shannon yelled, rushing to Ms. Walker’s side as she moved the alert aside, taping on the keyboard underneath the screen. A video popped up and Shannon drew in a sharp breath, Ms. Walker going stiff beside him. In the video, they saw the RT main RvB headquarters covered in billowing smoke as several buildings surrounding the skyscraper were either charred or in flames. On the ground and above were masked figures and planes that Shannon both recognized as the companies and others as not. Suddenly, another explosion erupted from the middle of the building as more smoke poured out.

The very same building that held, not just all their advanced weaponry and technology, but the only Immersion machine that would send RvB agents back home.

 

The fucking building was on fire.

They were under attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously sorry for delay on this chapter. I was hit with family events, finales, more family, and then getting reunited with my bed for the past two days. I may not be able to be consistent after this, but I'll try my best to get chapters out. 
> 
> Anyways: I hope you enjoy and please ask me any questions you may have. 
> 
> Have a wonderful day.


	11. It's a Dead World after all?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Jack continue their journey towards food but run into some...minor problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the irregular posting. However, I hope you enjoy. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask and I'll make sure to answer.

As normal, Geoff and Gavin did not wake up even as Jack and Michael carried the two down the street. Unlike last time, Ryan and Ray weren’t there to help carry the bags and the two found themselves having to juggle their friends and supplies. Weighed down, they could only travel a few miles before the sun started to set and the approaching shadow of night was coming upon them. The two stopped and found shelter in a familiar Austin bookstore. Jack went around and checked the parameter before returning inside and heading towards the backroom – a makeshift library with the right section dedicated to science fiction, the middle to mystery, and the left to horror. Michael remained stationed at the front, guarding their friends who were lying behind the counter.

He could hear Jack as he re-coded the environment and shifted its dimensions. He could hear the muffled thuds of books falling to the floor as Jack, no doubt, expanded the room. Of course, they still won’t have a bed – if Ryan were here, maybe he could have altered a few books into a solid bed. Or, if Geoff was awake, he could have ‘copied’ and ‘pasted’ a code for a bed from his never-ending inventory.

Michael snorted, rubbing his arm absently.

It was pretty common knowledge that Geoff had the device, he made no show of hiding it, but he usually only used it within the home server to save his and Gavin’s creations (especially ones designed to get destroyed). And while Geoff would claim to the high heavens (five minutes and two beers) that he had never brought the device outside of the home server, everyone was aware that he always did. The Crew knew that, despite his projected contempt for the glitches, he would always bring along his phone-inventory on any mission or long journey because he relied on his glitch (and, really, it was less of a phone and more like an IPhone solely made for list storage).

Really, it was rather hypocritical of Geoff when he thinks about it.

Michael patted at his side pocket, checking and making sure that the phone was there, even though he hadn’t removed it since he had found it in Geoff’s bag’s side pocket five days ago. Unfortunately, the devise was useless to them since Geoff was the only one who could activate the codes. If you asked him, Geoff’s glitch wasn’t really that…destructive and it wasn’t really much for Geoff to be wary of. Copying codes and having an endless storage to store and activate said codes – well the benefits certainly appeared to outweigh the negatives. Would make missions a lot easier when it comes to gathering supplies.

Michael glanced back down at Geoff.

Yet, Geoff was among the first to discover his Glitch. Only Agent McCormick (and definitely the founders) knew what happened – so he must have his own reasons.  

Michael was drawn out of his thoughts when Jack emerged, dust coating his shoulders as he went over and carefully hefted Geoff over and into a fireman hold. Michael took the silent confirmation that the room was finished as he went over to Gavin, carefully lifting the light man into a bridle hold. He followed Jack to the back. As Michael stepped into the doorway, he noted that Jack had not only expanded the length and width of the room, but also deepened the room as well. Michael slowly stepped down the wooden steps that Jack had made and walked towards Jack. Jack placed Geoff down onto some cushions he had found around the store; Michael then laid Gavin beside Geoff. Only Geoff twitched slightly, but Gavin remained cold and limp. 

As Michael straightened up, stretching his back, there was a loud, resounding creak.

Jack and Michael jolted and shared a look of alarm. The noise had come from the main room – Michael internally cursed for leaving the room unguarded as he unsheathed Mogar. Beside him, Jack had taken out his diamond axe, left hand hovering over his pistol strapped to his side.

The two advanced forward.

 

Michael muttered a curse as the floor creaked beneath their feet, each were hugging the walls as they slowly rounded the corner. Michael crept up to the large bookcase blocking their bodies from the rest of the main room, his back pressing against the wood as he shared an anxious look with Jack. Jack nodded, eyes fixing at the edge of the bookcase, hand tightening around the axe’s handle. With one last gulp of air, Michael carefully looked around the corner, and then snarled.

“The fuck?” Michael stepped out into the open. “No one’s here.”

He stomped into the room, checking behind the cashier counter and turned to an equally befuddled Jack. Had a book fallen, were they just going insane – Michael wasn’t sure and was pretty done with that shit. He let out a low groan and sheathed Mogar, scratching the back of his head as he shared a look of exhaustion with Jack. Might as well get some sleep before they trek out early morning tomorrow. But as the two started to walk back out, another crack popped.

Jack froze, eyes wide as he and Michael glanced up at the ceiling.

There, from nearly the front of the store and ending just barely above Jack’s head was a large, gaping hole. Inside they could see plaster, wires, and cobwebs; and an even larger crack splintering along the inner walls, just barely visible.

“Michael,” Jack took a step back as another crunching sound started, plaster and grey dust sprinkling on top of the lad’s head. Michael rushed towards Jack, brushing off the dust. “We need to leave now.” Jack grabbed Michael’s forearm and the two rushed to the backroom. By the time they had their friends and bags, the cracks had become louder, constant, and the shop seemed to vibrate. The two rushed out from the backroom, entering the front room where bits of rubble and parts of the ceiling lay – plaster and wood falling down. The two edged around the rubble and Michael shouldered the door open as the two rushed out into the dark and chilly night. 

The two take in a deep breath in time for a loud snap followed by a deafening noise as the building collapsed behind them. Jack and Michael rushed away, avoiding the debris that crumpled along with the dust and stray shard of glass. 

“Fuck! Fucking shit, what the hell?” Michael shouted, cutting into the silent night. “Jack I thought you said this was fucking stable!”

“I didn’t know – and what the hell are you talking about?” Jack turned to Michael, snarling back. “Mr. Electrician, how’d you not notice the gigantic fucking hole above your head!”

“No! No, don’t you turn this on me!” Michael shouted. “You’re the guy with the glitch that alters this shit, Mr. Build a House.” Michael breathed out.

“Look, we’re getting nowhere fighting, let’s just find shelter.” Jack sighed, Michael nodding. The two set out, shoulders aching as they lugged their unconscious friends down the pitch-dark street.

 

After ten minutes, or thirty, walking through the dark streets, the two managed to find and break into a decrepit – but not falling on top of their fucking heads – building. It looked like it was once an antique shop, with the moth-coated ancient pillows, cracked glass creepy figurines, and old vases littered about. Plus side, the backroom had been set up as an old country styled bedroom, complete with two twin beds, sheets and plenty of pillows.  

Michael made sure Gavin wouldn’t slip off the bed before joining Jack at the front shop. The man was sitting on a well-worn stool, staring out the dark windows, and twisting his phone around in his hand as he frowned.

Michael paused before placing his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Look, sorry for screaming at you back there,” he patted his shoulder once. “It was really both our faults.” Jack snorted and turned his head to look at Michael, smiling. “We’re ever the professionals?”

Michael chuckled, “you know it!”

Their chuckles died down a little until they fell back into a familiar silence.

Suddenly, Jack leaned forward in his stool. “Did you see that?”

Michael shifted and squinted, “I can’t see jack shit.” He grinned. “I can’t see your shit.”

“No,” Jack waved off the joke. “I saw something move outside.”

He frowned. “Bullshit, we haven’t seen a single living thing here – it’s a dead zone here.”

Jack just shook his head, though he started to slump down again. “I was sure…It was probably some paper.” 

“Or a tumbleweed,” Michael added, trying to squash the growing uneasiness bubbling in his stomach. “You’ve got some damn good eyesight for a four-eyed.” 

Jack bit out a laugh; ready to respond when something caught his eye.

Michael tensed when Jack slowly stood up, hand reaching for his axe. “Jack?” His own hand resting on Mogar’s hilt.

“I definitely saw something move out there.” Jack muttered, his eyes trained on the large windows. “It was closer than last time.” Michael anxiously stared at the glass window, occasionally the door.

He spoke towards Jack, keeping his voice low. “Is it safe to move towards the door – I don’t think it’s locked.” After a pause, Jack nodded. “Don’t go too fast, be careful, I can’t tell if it’s noticed us yet.” Michael nodded and quietly slunk through the unlit shop, careful to maneuver past the porcelain as he approached the door. He drew out Mogar, his hand reaching for the lock.

“Michael, I think it’s spotted us!”

Suddenly, the door swung open and a dark figure emerged. Michael thrust his sword in front, placing distance between himself and the stranger. He could hear Jack rush behind him. “Who the hell are you?” He snarled, tightening his grip when the figure stepped closer.

Its answer was a silent hiss as a cold, wispy pair of hands balled into his shirt and the world rushed forward as he was flung from the shop into the dark street onto the cold pavement. Michael scrambled to sit up, Jack screaming in the background, but the phantom hands latched onto his legs, pulling him further into the darkness.


	12. Unexpected Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It appears there may be some 'life' in this dead world after all...

He let out a loud scream as a deep cold pierced his skin. His nails dug into the asphalt and he frantically kicked hard enough for the icy fingers to lose its grip. He scrambled up just in time for Jack to barrel past Michael and swing down his axe. He heard a loud clang and quickly turned around in time to see Jack lift the axe from the street.

Jack had missed.

“Back to back,” Jack spoke quickly, Michael nodding as he followed Jack’s order. “Watch for movements.”

Michael took in deep gulps of air, eyes quickly scanning the street ahead of him – lingering on the shop at the right.

“Michael to your left!”

Jack’s axe swung, but was met with a swish as the thing crashed into Michael again. This time, he was prepared. Instead of being knocked over, while his heels skid into the ground, his hand dug harshly into the shoulder as his sword embedded itself into the thing’s chest. Then with a smirk, Michael yanked the sword out and bashed the hilt of it down on the thing’s head. It crumpled with a dray thud and Michael shot Jack a weary smile.

Jack walked towards Michael, frowning. “Do you think there are more of these?”

“I don’t know,” Michael shrugged. “But I suggest we go inside before we find-“

A hand had latched onto his arm and suddenly the shadow had a face. Ray stared, dark and unyielding, at Michael with an expressionless face as it stood up. His chest healing in wisps of smoke as the cold chill returned with vengeance that seemed to spread from Ray’s hand. 

“What’s going on? Ray, what are you doing here?” Jack was flabbergasted; he took a step forward and Ray’s eyes snapped to Jack. It held such a dead expression; Jack scowled and lifted his axe. “Let him go.”

“No.” It – Ray – spoke, voice nearly robotic and devoid of emotion. Michael couldn’t feel his fingers anymore. He tried to yank it free, but stopped at expression on Ray’s face.

“So hungry,” Ray spoke, eyes flashing with a deep insatiable hunger.

Michael’s heart was hammering, everything felt colder, darker, and he felt nearly grey.

“Let go,” He muttered – lips suddenly heavy, eye-lids like lead.

It was like he was being drained.

“Michael! You’re disappearing!” Jack shouted. “Let him go!”

Jack rushed forward and swung his axe down on the imposter, but it was like cutting through fog.

Michael’s eyes snapped up at the noise – widening when he realized his hands were nearly translucent.

Suddenly, Michael felt wide-awake as he realized with horror his codes were being eaten.

“Let Go!”

A surge of fear coursed through Michael and, for a second, Ray’s monochromatic hand flickered and its deep pallor flushed with color as it lost its airy texture and gained substance. Ray’s attention snapped down to his hand and, loosening his grip; Michael ripped his arm away.

He sighed in relief when he could feel the warmth return to his arm and hand, cradling it close to his chest as it became solid once more.

Ray watched as his hand flickered back to its grey emptiness. 

The imposter’s eyes widen and stared at its palm while Michael and Jack edged away, weapons held up as shields. They waited, watching this apparition to prepare their next defense – but no attack came as Ray finally looked up, an even stranger look in his eyes. Instead of a blank void, there, within the darkness, rested a desperate question and an unsteady and faint pulse sporadically beating around him.

It was then, as Michael watched with dawning realization followed by muted horror, that he had unintentionally given this ghost life within this dead server. Yet, by the pattern of the beats, he doubted this self-conscious awareness would last much longer.

Which meant, Michael took a step forward, they had a limited amount of time to figure out what happened, what really happened.

“Michael?” Ray’s voice cracked, losing its previous creepy roboticism. He looked like he was growing more distraught. Michael took a chance and loosely grasped around Ray’s forearm – ignoring its lack of substance and Ray’s erratic beating pulse.

“Hey, Ray.” He started softly, but stopped when Ray made a strange chocking noise.

The shadow looked around and settled his frantic gaze back on Michael.

“Everything is different – everything feels and looks different. I don’t understand.”

Then Ray paused, a pained expression crossing onto his face.

He held a deep frown as distress and forced understanding filtered through his eyes. He sucked in a breath as his gaze traveled over the abandoned buildings.

“We did this.”

“What did you do?” Jack spoke up, startling Ray out of his staring. He swallowed, an unnecessary act Michael thought. 

“We ruined everything.” Ray licked his lips and seemed to shrink into himself. “We consumed everyone.” 

“Whose we?” Ray glanced at Michael, panicked looks finally subsiding back behind a cold, calm stare.

“That’s a long story.”

“We have time,” Michael matched the look.

Ray shrugged, his arm easily slipping out of Michael’s grasp.

“Fine,” Ray looked back towards Jack. “But we’ll need to find some shelter first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm really sorry I've been incredibly busy with my second semester of college and I just lost track of time. I've gotten back to writing the chapters ahead of time, but I'm not completely done. With that said, I can't promise to get right back on schedule, but I promise to not leave you hanging for three months again. 
> 
> Next Chapter will definitely be a lot longer than this and if you have any questions, don't be afraid to ask.


	13. Past Mourning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened?

_It had started a few years back, before Ray and Michael became achievement hunters and before Gavin’s visa became secured. It was a minor bacterium that would soon mutate into something stronger, thanks to a few vaccines and exposure to various chemicals within the water supply. It was going to be the next global epidemic, after it mutated into a more deadly gene, in 2014 and historically it would have been ranked next to polio and with higher fatalities than the bubonic plague. Whether the humans, more than likely, overcame and cured the disease wasn’t up for theoretical arguments because in the end, the bacterium never did get to follow through its original coding._

_Something else had tainted its natural codes; no longer would it be an epidemic, no, it was far more catastrophic. Laced within its dormant genes was something far more unnatural, a poison that would soon draw out the surrealism of their reality._

_It was the month of October 2013 when the first reports started to come in. It was on a brisk Saturday; Geoff had flipped on the television as he made some lunch for his family. Outside, Gavin was playing with his daughter and upstairs Griffon continued to work on their room’s walls._

_Altogether, it was peaceful._

_In the next room, the anchorwoman returned and her voice took a serious edge as she spoke about a new bacteria found in Brazil. While there was no conclusive evidence to show that the bacteria posed a threat, scientists were still keen to investigate this new discovery. Then, her co-host shifted it to sports and this new information was gone from Geoff’s mind once more._

 

_Michael and Lindsay sat across Gavin and Meg as the four waited for their food._

_The conversation was going along swimmingly; it was familiar, comfortable, and impersonal as the group slipped from their usual online personas to their natural selves. Above the group, a national news channel was on and muted._

_The reporter looked at his papers and his mouth moved, his fingers cut off as black blocked text appeared, moving too quickly for any patron to read. The flag of Mexico appeared, faded, and a clinic appeared – the word bacteria appearing over and over on the bottom screen._

_Occasionally a number would appear too, maybe it was the amount of the infected, maybe it was the amount of countries suspected of infection, and no doubt it had flashed the amount of cases that had steadily risen since October. In the end, common cold had flashed and the possibility of threat was quelled._

_Ryan frowned at the screen, his daughter resting on his chest, as Stewart criticized the inefficiency of the American government with handling this increasingly obvious epidemic._

_More Americans were becoming sick, displaying flu-like symptoms – every one testing with the same bacteria. Studies show that it appears to be more prominent in the Southern States, but since there had been no fatalities, the little research exploring this new bacterium would have its funds cut – due to political judgment._

_He rubbed his daughter’s back, a deep worry settling in his chest, as the segment ended and Stewart moved on._

_Ray cringed as Gavin let out another loud sneeze and behind him Geoff sniffled then groaned._

_Gavin and Geoff had become progressively sicker over the week. What started as a cold for Gavin morphed into a cough for Geoff and resulted in a minor flu by Friday. He heard from Geoff that Millie and Griffon were sick too; both had taken Thursday and Friday off to rest and see the doctor._

_In his opinion, Gavin and Geoff shouldn’t have come in today – but the work was building as other employees and interns took a sick day off as well. Ray shared a look with Michael as Geoff let out a wet sneeze and Gavin groaned out, hitting his head on his desk._

 

_The new pandemic took rise in a red flash of emergency, as thousands of clinics and hospitals reported similarly infected clients by the assload. Research started, belatedly funded by the national systems and even the most cynical felt nearly hopeful by the quick process made. By the time the majority of the global population was infected, there was nearly a cure for the pandemic and there was hope._

 

The shadow of Ray stopped his story, he looked at this other Michael and Jack, and for the second time, Michael could see that spark of (what was left of this) Ray in the ghost’s remorseful eyes. The Shadow collected himself, then continued, voice falling back into its monotone.

 

_The unnatural code activated on Sunday._

_In one massive sweep, every single infected person was biologically attacked._

_Malignant tumors formed and metastasized, organs shut down, the brain slipped into a comatose state, and quickly millions to billions of hearts arrested._

_Within five minutes, everything went to hell._

 

_It was 4am in Texas when it happened and the uninfected members of Rooster Teeth remained unaware._

 

_It wasn’t until later, when Matt called a giant meeting of all employees and everyone squished together as he flipped on their adequately sized television screen, that they learned about the catastrophe._

_Jack stood next to Michael and Ray, Lindsay by Michael, and Ryan near Caleb – Geoff and Gavin were still missing._

_Jack was glad they finally took a sick day._

_There was a collective gasp and Jack was drawn out of his thoughts to look up at the screen. That was when everything really stopped._

_Beside him, Michael gave a frantic curse and fumbled with his phone as he worked on a text, no doubt for Gavin. A couple of minutes passed, and Michael held the phone to his ear, cursing when he hit voicemail for the second time._

_Jack snapped out of his trance and stormed straight to his car, ignoring everyone around him. Only the red tagline remained in his mind: Deadly New Bacteria: Over Millions of Infected Dead – National Emergency!_

_Michael had left with Jack to check up on the Ramsey’s and Gavin._

_That was a poor mistake to let them go._

_The two had found a silent home. Jack had let themselves in with the spare key after the fifth knock and the two split up; Jack checked on Geoff, Michael on Gavin._

_Jack had only taken a peak into Geoff’s room when Michael started to yell. He couldn’t tell if Geoff or Griffon had stirred, but rushed down to check up on Michael._

_Jack realized it was a bigger mistake to take Michael with him._

_He never did forget the sight as Michael continued to scream at Gavin, tugging on his pajama shirt, attempting to rouse the sleeping Brit. But as Jack approached Michael, he realized that Gavin was not sleeping._

_His head limply rolled as Michael, voice cracking, gradually stopped shaking him and pressed his forehead to Gavin’s chest. Jack could do nothing as he watched his friend breakdown at his best friend’s death._

_He felt a tightness curl in his chest at the sinister implication. His hands trembled, as he rushed back to Geoff’s room, then to his daughters, hot tears running down his face, until he crumpled in the hall and sobbed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay - so I know I said it would be long, but uh, it was a little bit too long and I had to split the thing into two chapters. With that said: I may not post Chapter Fifteen until after May 2 because I'm about to be hit (like Quaterback tackled) with Finals and moving. 
> 
> So thanks for holding on for so long; I really want to try and finish this monster up so I can go back to planning and writing for that mermaid sequel fic. If this takes too long, I'm going to have to start on the other one. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this - not the greatest writing (or the most adequate), but hey practice makes perfect (nah, perfection is impossible, gotta settle on mediocre for me).


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